"Just like in previous years, I'll set a problem. Whoever solves it first and sends the complete solution to my email can have dinner with me. During dinner, we can discuss any mathematical questions, and I'll answer them patiently," Dewitt said.
A young man with equally messy hair stepped onto the stage, picked up a piece of chalk, and rapidly wrote the problem on the small blackboard in the corner.
Dewitt was inconveniently confined to a wheelchair and unable to write, so at every public lecture, he had a student write on the board for him. One look at the young man's hairstyle was enough to tell what school he belonged to. The styles of master and disciple were uncannily similar, like father and son.
"The Dewitt Dinner exists to help young people on the path of mathematics, so the chance to solve the problem is limited to scholars under thirty. Old fellows, don't join in the fun, and don't help your students cheat. It's all up to your own discretion!" Dewitt took a drag of his cigarette and continued.
The mathematicians throughout the hall stared intently at the problem on the small blackboard, and the young mathematicians' eyes burned especially brightly!
The Dewitt Dinner was a regular event at the Mathematics Summit every year. Whoever managed to seize the opportunity to dine at the same table as Dewitt would, in the Mathematics Circle, be no different from a carp leaping through the Dragon Gate. Their fame would soar!
Someone had even compiled a list of the Fields Medal winners from the past twenty years and discovered that a full eighty percent of them had once dined at Dewitt's table. It was as though the Will of Heaven were at work. Every lucky person who shared a meal with Dewitt